sitting in strangers' living rooms at 4 am
complete lack of cooperation with foreign keyboards
silence aloneness
desperate re-realizations of what life is now
the urge to break everything I've helped build
just for a thrill
I've come back.
I've come back, because in the end, it's all there is. Running away from yourself is futile. While we are very different people in varying company, we do not become less of the sides we do not show everyone all at once nor the sides people explicitly request us to suppress.
I fear I've become physically ill and this may be the only way to help fix it.
I am tired eyes, tired limbs, and a tired mind grown numb from the infantile I've been blessed with. My tongue is growing sharper than it should be, and the arrogance I've been accused of may not entirely be a fairytale. I miscalculate my worth either by largely underestimating it or perhaps going a bit overboard. Who am I kidding: I rarely think very highly of myself and when I do, I grow disgusted by the mirror image of my own transgressions in the displays of self-absorption in others around me. I am in no place to place myself higher than the common man, and yet I do it. God I'm tired of this.
There are many kinds of fatigue: the rash that persists, the itch that eats away at me. The lack of accomplishments, having personal goals, sitting at dinner tables surrounded by people who have conversations I don't find interesting in a language that I don't speak anyway. The best pastime I've come up with is trying to pick up words here and there, or trying to figure out what is being discussed whenever I can bother to follow. It is a desperate exercise and I feel myself a prisoner, regardless of the good nature of the people and the overwhelming amounts of flavorful food. It is a feast, but not the kind that feeds both mind and body. The mind withers.
The mind has withered for a while now, and leads to sleepless nights, muffled screams and the desire to run off and jump off the nearest cliff. When was the last time the mind was allowed to run free without snappy comments and snarky remarks? Where is the vocabulary of a renaissance man who leaves me confused and asking what he is talking about, not only because he speaks in a language I have not studied a day in my life? For the love of god, someone, anyone, talk to me about astrophysics, teach me about the sentence structures and grammar of dead languages, teach me something you'd hear the majority of the people walking this earth deem useless, pointless or too complicated for them to care about. Tell me about what it feels like when you touch in a dream. Make use of ridiculous metaphors and puns and wordplay that destroys any hint of respect we should have for language in general - talk this kind of dirty to me. Cease the pitiful diet of the mind.
Make me feel like the only thing I've ever wanted is to fuck you, and then leave me hanging. For more.
